


452. alive

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [35]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 06:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7673227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the floor the man is bleeding; Helena dips her fingers in his blood, goes over to the wall. Sarah-Kira-Helena. There.</p>
            </blockquote>





	452. alive

**Author's Note:**

> "Natalie can't stop obsessing over the shower scene": a heartwarming tale of me thinking about one single Orphan Black scene for over two years

Sarah won’t stop crying.

She’s sitting on the floor of Rachel’s shower, and she’s crying. Helena doesn’t really understand why. Helena hasn’t cried – _really_ cried – since she was…mm. Young. After Ania, but before Nicoletta.

Helena is alive! Helena saved Sarah! Sarah should stop crying. And hold Helena again. And maybe buy her a burger; Helena wants a burger. The thing in her body that learned from Maggie that killing means food – that part of her is hungry. Very hungry. But she can’t leave Sarah to go look in Rachel’s fridge; she only _just_ found her. So she stays. Of course she stays.

Sarah isn’t moving. Helena can’t stop herself from sighing, a little bit, between her teeth. She walks out into the living room – close enough that she can still see Sarah, but outside of the room. On the floor the man is bleeding; Helena dips her fingers in his blood, goes over to the wall. Sarah-Kira-Helena. There. Maybe she’ll do that on every wall. Show Rachel what a family looks like. Heh.

“What’re you doing,” says a creaking voice, and Helena turns, sees: Sarah, standing on her own feet again. There’s blood smeared behind her ear.

“Drawing,” says Helena. She spreads her bloody fingers in the air before Sarah. See?

Sarah blanches, swallows in a way that says: vomit. She doesn’t answer. Helena hums a few notes of the song that was playing – _when I feel (ooh!) so bad, you can make me feel so fine_ – and moves a few feet, raises her fingers to the wall again.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Sarah says.

Helena stops. Lowers her hand. “Why,” she says.

Sarah stares at her, hollow-eyed. The blood on her neck is drying. Helena is so angry that it moves all the way past angry, into calm. One of the two of them has to be calm! Sarah isn’t calm. Sarah is what happens when you are so terrified it moves past that. You can’t find calm there, though. You find something else instead.

“I don’t know,” Sarah says, the words fragile and soft and Helena wants, so much, to hold her. Instead she flips her bloody fingers, holds them out soft and coaxing. A gift, if Sarah wants it, if Sarah wants to reach out and take it.

Instead Sarah cracks a ghost of a smirk at her, dabs her fingers behind her ear and holds them out to match. Their bloody fingers almost but not quite touching in the empty air, the empty room. Empty room no sound. Helena smiles back on her. Same mouth, different smile. Bigger.

Sarah’s hand drops. She studies the three of them on the walls.

“It’s us,” Helena says quietly, feeling stupid.

“I know,” Sarah says. The words are simple and quiet and easy. Sarah knows. She walks behind Helena, crosses over to a picture framed on Rachel’s wall. Her fingers reach out and touch it. Helena holds her breath and watches her.

Maggie would take photographs of the others, sometimes, when they were working or eating or sleeping or shopping. Here, here is this girl you will kill. A gift for you. Helena imagines it, her hands held up, the whirr- _click_ of the camera. Sarah held like that forever, reaching out to touch something behind glass. The blood on her neck, the dark depths of her eyes. Helena would keep her like that anyways, in a pocket next to her heart.

Instead she quietly walks over to Sarah and studies the picture. There’s only one girl there, hair sticking out. Helena’s heart rolls over and thumps in her chest.

“It’s you,” Sarah says.

Helena says: “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


End file.
